


Perfect

by wingardium_letmefuckyou



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Consent, Established Relationship, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Light BDSM, Orgasm, Other, Soft Dom Valerius, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 04:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingardium_letmefuckyou/pseuds/wingardium_letmefuckyou
Summary: Valerius takes care of an overworked Magician





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Valerius and the Magician have an established relationship and everything they do is consensual. They have a safeword, they have had several talks about how far they can go and what works for them. There is respect, love and trust between them. Keep that in mind whenever you try these things at home, kiddo's!

Whenever Valerius enters a room, it takes your breath away. Even after all this time, his beauty and elegance still baffle you. The man is a work of art, especially when he graces you with his signature barely-there-and-meant-only-for-you-to-see smile. It’s but a delicate curl of his lips, accompanied by a tender softness in his eyes but it makes you go weak inside every single time. You can’t help your own broad, answering grin while you breath his name as a greeting: “Val…”  
You lean into the kiss he fondly places on your head, his warm hands rubbing your shoulders, easing the tension that collected there without you realizing it.  
“When will you be done working, my dear?” he asks, it is almost midnight now and he has been waiting for you to join him for the night. You sigh and frown, thinking about all the work that still has to be done by the time the Masquerade starts. Only two more days to finish before the whole of Vesuvia will start pouring in to admire your work. Being Court Magician is a wonderful and fulfilling job but it tends to get hectic and stressful as the legendary, annual party grows closer. The countess has planned many breathtaking and extravagant rooms but she can’t bring them into existence without your magical aid.  
Valerius interprets your silence the right way and scoffs sternly: “You work too hard. When is the last time you properly ate or drank? Or slept more than a few hours. You were already gone this morning when I woke up and I couldn’t recall you coming to bed either.”

You bite your lip, noticing his disapproving tone. Truth be told, you can’t even remember when you last had something to eat. Your stomach had started growling a few hours ago but you had pointedly ignored the hunger in favour of more time to work on the Masquerade decorations, same goes for some much needed sleep.  
“Answer me, Magician,” Valerius demands and you shiver at the change of tone, at the use of your title and the silent promise that lies behind it.  
“I can’t remember,” you whisper, the hands on your shoulders somehow feel heavier with disappointment.  
“I can’t have that,” Valerius tuts, “I can’t have you neglecting your own well being. Listen to me carefully Magician: I want you to meet me in our room in one hour. You are only allowed to enter if you have eaten properly and made sure you are hydrated. I shall then see to it that you learn what happens to magicians who don’t take proper care of themselves. Am I clear?”  
You swallow, ignoring the heat that pools between your legs and answer in the way you know he desires of you: “Yes, Consul. Crystal clear.” The delicate brush of lips on your jaw is a reward for your immediate obedience. Your heart skips a beat and you’re glad you didn’t protest against his tempting proposition. Frankly, you’re just relieved he’s pulling you away from your work.  
“You remember the safeword, darling?” Valerius murmurs in your ear.  
“I remember,” you answer. He just hums in response, seemingly pleased. Valerius turns around without another word, leaving you buzzing with anticipation, aching for more of his touch. But first, there are instructions to follow. 

And that is how, after about an hour and a half, you find yourself draped naked over the consul’s lap. He is still clothed and the luxurious fabric chafes your sensitive spots in the most delicious ways. A harsh slap lands on your exposed bottom, followed by a small cry of your own. You whimper when the same hand soothingly strokes the stinging skin, offering a tantalizing juxtaposition between pain and delight. Valerius’ hands are silky soft and every touch gives you goosebumps.  
“Don’t forget to count, Magician. You don’t want me to start over again, do you?” he commands. Any other day you would consider defying him just for the sake of him having to show you your place but not today. Today you are tired and you need this, you need your consul to take care of you, to take every other thought but your pain and pleasure from your overworked mind.  
“No Consul. I w-w... ,” his hand connects with your buttcheek before you can finish your sentence and you choke out a strained “six.” Only fourteen more to go. You will both be content and disappointed once Valerius reaches twenty. The build up stress from days of negligent self care leaves your aching body with every slap, while the consul steadily guides you to that space where only you and he exist. That place where he leads and all you have to do is follow, trusting him with your biggest vulnerabilities. 

By the thirteenth slap, the tears start pouring out. Even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be physically able to. He would never allow you anyways. Valerius wanted you like this, reduced to nothing but a crying, incoherent mess. But what he desired even more was to take care of you, to ensure you were safe and happy and content.  
“Twenty,” you gasp through your tears, with the echo of the last spank still hanging in the air.  
“Well done, dear Magician,” the consul praises, satisfied by your complete surrender. He reaches for a small jar, filled with cooling ointment that he lovingly rubs on your aching backside. You sigh in contentment, both at the refreshing sensation and the praise. He turns you around in his lap and you nuzzle his neck, the subtle scent of wine, expensive cologne and something entirely his own overflooding your senses. Valerius caresses your knee, butterfly touches at first. Then he moves up to your thigh, more firmly this time and you keen when he finally reaches your sex. He knows you so intimately, has memorized every spot, every inch of you, every way to bring you pleasure. His hands play you like a fine tuned instrument, coaxing sinful moans and gasps from your mouth. It’s his favourite sound in the world.  
“You did so good for me, darling. So perfect. You are perfect. My beautiful, wonderful Magician,” he murmurs while his hands work their magic. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, alternating with a gentle nip here and there. It’s too good, too much, you can barely remember your own name. Pleasure is coiling in the pit of your stomach, tighter and tighter, begging for release.  
“Val, please…,” you whimper, not sure what you are asking for. Anything, everything.  
“I’ve got you, my love,” he answers and there’s so much truth in that statement that it chokes you up with emotion.  
“I love you so much,” he whispers against your skin, “I’ve got you, I’ll always have you.”  
You sob and cry out his name when your high washes over you, wave after blissful wave. Valerius guides you steadily through the storm until you’re completely and utterly spent. He lies you down on the bed, cradled against his chest while he strokes your hair in a soothing motion. He’s never lied, he does have you, every single time, over and over again. Your sweet, trusted Consul.  
“Sleep, my sweet Magician. Rest now.”


End file.
